


Not Blood, But Family

by Kei_yuu



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Co-workers, Domestic, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-11-29 03:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18217574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kei_yuu/pseuds/Kei_yuu
Summary: Mina remembers having a sister in the very distant past, until the day she didn’t have one anymore.





	1. Goodbye

Plodding downstairs with a suppressed yawn, Mina greets her mom and pulls a seat at their breakfast table for four. Still fighting off the morning grogginess, she glances around, realizing her sister is nowhere to be seen.

 _That’s odd. I swear I saw her door was open._ The light was off though.

“Where’s Nee-san?”

She can’t have gone to school already—she’s never out of the house earlier than Mina. They always walk to school together even when the older girl has student council meetings (Mina will have to attend those soon too, if she gets voted in) because Mina’s studious enough to want to go to class early, while her sister is the exact opposite.

Actually, more often than not, their mom would have to tell Mina to head back upstairs and wake her for breakfast. After much grumbling and some sneaky cuddles with Mina protesting the whole way, they’d finally make it downstairs, grab a light breakfast, and off to school they’d go. The trek is just a little too far for walking distance and increases the risk of them arriving late (sometimes Mina ends up on the back of her sister’s bike as the latter pedals at godspeed because they are late), but Mina enjoys their little heart-to-hearts along the way.

The thought brings a smile to her face. (She won’t admit it out loud though—as far as the other girl’s aware, Mina is still angry about the little nick in her perfect attendance from that one late morning. It makes for good blackmail material when Mina wants some extra attention or ice cream.)

“Who?” Her dad calls out from the couch, almost as if he was waiting for Mina to say something. She drives the thought to the back of her skull.

The corners of her lips fall, and Mina frowns, “What do you me—”

“Dear.” Her mom sends her dad a warning look. Appearing nearby, she’s gripping the kitchen towel they use to wipe the table, it’s not wet, and her knuckles are white.

He seems to get it after that, because he pauses for a split second before saying, “Oh that dy—“

“Dear!”

“Where is she?”

Her mom turns to her with sad eyes, teeming with apologies for something Mina isn’t aware of yet.

“She’s gone. Not coming back.” Her dad cuts in instead. He doesn’t even look at her, just keeps skimming his newspaper from his place on the couch. She doesn’t step closer to him either.

“Gone where?”

“Somewhere.”

“Why? What for?” Mina can’t tell if this is a joke, a surprise, or something else entirely.

“No idea. But she doesn’t need us. Said so herself.”

This immediately cancels out any positive outcome Mina comes up with for this situation. A lump grows in the back of her throat and it’s the same kind of lump that grows at funerals, a tumor that replaces the loss of a dear friend or family. Mina hasn’t lost anyone to death. But with the dread she’s facing upon realization of what this really means, she might as well have. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He snorts and when he finally meets her eyes, Mina feels a icicle stab through her chest, slowly filling her ribcage with something solid and heavy and irreversible. Something like mercury. “Except she did.”

And from that day on, Mina didn’t have an older sister anymore.

\---

The air is colder in Korea, is the first thought that runs through Mina’s head when she steps out of the airport. Her breath puffs out in white tendrils as Mina burrows her face further in her scarf.

Her sister always had a passion for everything she did, a burning wild drive that made her both likeable and formidable. Mina’s like her in that way, she supposes. Except her own passion is of a much more subtle kind, a steady simmer that neither fades nor grows. But it’s a passion nonetheless, if her eleven years of ballet have anything to say about it.

And it’s this very drive that brings Mina to Seoul, having pursued a degree in both Marketing and International Business, she landed a job as a Marketing Manager straight out of college for a Japanese firm that was hired to design some ads and run a campaign by a bigger Korean company. Hence, the current trip. It’s her first large-scale project and Mina is a little anxious, yet very eager to prove herself.

_“You’re the smartest person I know. If you can’t do it, then I have no idea who can!”_

She can do this. There’s nothing to be scared of.

_“Mitan~ The little penguin that could~”_

Mina flags down the next taxi and smiles despite herself. Sets her carrier in the trunk as she climbs in the front. She can do this. Mina can move forward.

And someday she’ll be able to without the need of reassurances from ghosts of the past.

\---

 _No. No way, no_ fucking—The world is messing with her. How else would it explain the woman standing in front of Mina now, having taken the liberty of walking up to her as the latter froze stiff as a board in the cafe’s entrance.

“Hello, Myoui Mina-san.” Her hair is dyed burgundy, long and straight, body donned in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt. She bows and Mina scrambles to follow suit in blind habit. “I’m Minatozaki Sana. I’ll be working with you in regards to this project. I hope we’ll get along.”

When she straightens up again, the smirk is the same as Mina remembers, the cheeks are a bit less chubby and her face seems to have grown more mature, stature a little taller, but there’s no mistaking her eyes. Always so focused and attentive, like she’s hanging off every word you’re saying. A lot of boys fell for that gaze. They got their hearts broken every time.

Mina feels like puking.

_Sana-neesan._

\---

They’re okay, civil even. The conversation carries on almost automatically once they’re seated at the booth (Mina shoving down the need to excuse herself and dry heave) and Mina finally manages to introduce herself in the manner she’s rehearsed a million times before. They swap the customary business cards.

“So Myoui-san, are you enjoying your stay in Korea?”

Myoui-san. Right. Because Sana isn’t a Myoui. She’s a Minatozaki. The card says so.

Sana’s speaking in Japanese to accommodate for Mina. Mina responds in Korean, “Yes Minatozaki-ssi. Korea is very pretty, though it’s a bit colder than Japan.”

God why didn’t anyone tell her who the representative was going to be? Mina has half a mind to scroll through her thousands of emails in her inbox just to find proof that she wasn’t informed then get HR to fire whoever didn’t inform her. Realistically, she knows she won’t do this though. Sana’s voice brings her mind back into the fray—she still sounds the exact same.

“Is it? It’s been a while since I’ve been to Japan.”

 _Eight years._ Mina clears her throat as if to cover her thoughts. “I believe so.”

Are they just supposed to act like they’ve never met? Never spent half their lives together and never dropped out of each other’s world’s like Mina wasn’t hit by an entire _bus_ the morning it all ended? Smacked in the face by every passenger and run over by all four wheels?

“It is pretty cold over here I suppose. Many of our clients from overseas say so, but I guess I’m used to the weather.”

Well. At least one of them is doing a good at acting. Sad it’s not Mina.

She nods, “Your company is doing well isn’t it? That’s part of the reason for this campaign?”

“Ah yes!” And Sana goes on to explain how lucky they’ve been with their last line of products, how they have enough resources to expand internationally now, which has been their long-term goal for a while. Of course it is, Sana’s company isn’t a conglomerate but it’s practically becoming a monopoly at this rate. It doesn’t upset Mina that Sana’s doing well. But it might irk her a little that Sana’s currently ahead of Mina.

 _But if they’re expanding..._ Mina takes the leap, switching back to Japanese subconsciously. “Maybe if you visit Japan sometime, I can show you around Tokyo. You’ve never been there right?”

Sana pauses at this, the previous excitement fades entirely from her face and Mina waits with bated breath, gripping the fabric of her slacks under the table. She’s not offering anything weird by any means, it’s just a kind gesture—nothing more. Then why does she feel like she’s drowning in the thick dread associated with making a mistake?

“I think you’re...confused.”

“About what?” Mina almost trips over the words in her hurry to say something and Sana leans forward, elbows propped on the edge of the table. How long has it been since Mina’s sat face to face with her sister? Last time they shared breakfast across the table?

“I’ll just say this now. We’re not sisters or friends or anything of the sort. This conversation—” She gestures between them. “—It’s just business. I’m not here to catch up.”

Mina’s lips purse. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you sure?” Sana’s always been able to read her like a book. Always been so straightforward. Mina never liked to talk much, so she always had to if she wanted to figure out what Mina wanted to say. It used to make her feel safe, understood. Now she just shifts in her seat.

“If you don’t want to, then I won’t.” It’s out before she even realizes she let them slip. Sana barks a sudden laugh.

“Right. Still following me like old times huh?”

The words kindle a heat that builds up her neck and face, fiery and consuming. Her defenses rise along with Sana’s smirk. “I don’t just follow you around.”

“You joined student council after me.”

“They needed a secretary, I was nominated.”

“You started ballet because of me, though I don’t know if you quit.”

(“Why do you think I started taking dance lessons?” Sana throws the question her way on their walk home after finishing club activities. It’s a hot day, almost summer break, and Sana had insisted on grabbing a few popsicles before heading back to the house.

A younger, more naive Mina frowns. _That’s an odd question._ “Because you love dancing?”

“No, silly~” Sana waves her popsicle at her, beaming like she has a secret that she’s been dying to tell Mina her whole life. Mina just never asked. “Because you love dancing.”)

“...I haven’t.”

Sana smiles almost triumphantly now and the whistling sensation in Mina’s chest cavity is painfully distracting.

“You want me to come back.”

 _That—_ Mina sucks in a deep breath and licks her lips, looking somewhere—anywhere except Sana’s face. Then she finally notices the décor of the café, and the gigantic face of the clock taking up the entire far wall seems to mock her. “I never said that.”

“And yet you never even looked for me, am I right?” Sana shakes her head when Mina mouth drops open, cutting her off before any excuses can come flying out. “It’s okay I don’t blame you. You’ve always just accepted what happened around you, so it was wrong of me to expect anything else.” She shrugs. Like she didn’t just jab Mina in the gut.

“You’re the one that left without a single word.” Mina tries—she really does—not to let the irritation seep into her voice. It hurts, it physically pains her somewhere inside her adam’s apple to continue speaking, an itch she can’t soothe, so she doesn’t. And neither does Sana. A few moments pass, Mina sighs and tries to let up the tension in her shoulders. It only seems to get tighter. Like a noose around her neck. “...Why did you leave?”

Another shrug.

“Sana.”

“Just felt like it.”

“Bullshit.”

Sana’s eyes widen comically, then upturn into crescents and she giggles. “Wow you’re cussing now? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cuss before~”

She’s still doing it. Mina may be Sana’s younger sister but she doesn’t need to keep treating her like she doesn’t know as well as Sana does. Sana doesn’t always know better.

“Give or take eight years and people will change.” Doesn’t even bother to control her tone anymore. Mina _is_ bitter. Why shouldn’t she be? “Why are you even trying to be cool? Wait, I know, it’s your defense mechanism. Pretending everything’s okay.”

Sana’s eyes narrow and Mina feels sudden guilt chill her spine. Cold spreads all the way to her fingertips and quells every other sensation. Oh god, what is she trying to do?

“S-Sorry.”

Whatever it is, this is not the way to go about it. Sana is their client’s representative, and an important one at that. It’s the only reason they’re meeting now and Mina is a professional, not some child. She can’t fuck this up. Shouldn’t fuck this up.

“I apologize for my behavior. Please forget this ever happened.”

Sana makes a small noise in her throat like a scoff. Crosses her arms. Wraps them around herself.

No. The gesture is strikingly obvious. A defensive pose. An effort at protection. Something she’s used to seeing whenever Sana gets frightened but never directed at her. Sana’s arms were always open for Mina.

Sana shouldn’t have to protect herself from Mina. That’s just...sad.

“And what if I say no?”

Mina immediately stands and moves out of the booth, bending exactly ninety degrees with eyelids clenched shut. “Please do. My actions don’t reflect my company.”

_Please please please don’t go—_

“...Fine.”

She mutters a thank you and bows once again before sitting, tries not to let out a sigh when Sana averts her gaze.

This project is going to be a tough one—for them both.

\---

Mina heads straight for her nightstand when she gets back to her room, the mental image of her destination already clear in her mind since over an hour ago. Briefcase dropped, laptop and documents spilling she dashes like a madman for her drawer. Slamming it open so hard the wood rebounds back into her hand leaving a dull ache, Mina’s fingers angrily grasp for the bottle she takes with her everywhere. It’s been a few years since she’s needed it. But she keeps it around for those days. Day like these.

Popping a couple pills back dry, the scratchiness in her throat almost makes her regret it as she sinks in relief onto the bed, an arm thrown over her eyes. The kimbap in the plastic bag lies forgotten on the desk for the rest of the night.

“God...dammit.”

\---

They meet several more times to discuss the project and the project only, strictly professional. Long hours spent at a cafe with several cups of coffee—sometimes without because they’re too busy debating ideas and deadlines and the like to remember. At the end of it all, Mina trudges back to her hotel more drained mentally (and emotionally) than physically. Though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t fine with the current workload.

Work has consistently been Mina’s coping mechanism—her escape—since her school days, be it assignments or research, reports or presentations or just arguing with her superiors for a longer deadline because half her team is dead and no one’s left the office for three days. Coffee shop meetings are inherently no different, and most days she’s even more focused than the other girl, almost prides herself on it and feels natural throwing herself into the job to forget everything else, yet just this once, there’s a small kink in her diaphragm.

There’s nothing wrong with working with Sana-nee—Minatoza—Sana-ssi. There really isn’t. She’s really good at her job, compromising, inspiring even, and very patient. They work together well, and Mina tells herself it’s not because she knows some of Sana’s habits already and vice versa. She tries not to feel anything when Sana gets up (Mina assumes it’s to use the restroom) only to come back with two coffees in hand. She hadn’t even noticed she finished her cup already and god knows she needs to perpetually consume caffeine lest she fall pass out on her keyboard, so Mina thanks her in a daze. She shouldn’t be so surprised by a kind gesture but her brain stops working as soon as she takes a sip. Americano. Her favorite.

“I miss Doutonbori.” Sana suddenly speaks while Mina’s busy emailing her colleagues updates. They’ve already finished the sketches for the first set of designs and she’s sending the feedback Sana gave her directly without consulting anyone—because Sana’s the marketing director and she has the authority to do that. In any case, the concept’s a little off, but nothing they can’t fix. “I wonder if anything’s different.”

Part of Mina recognizes that Sana’s just trying to make small talk about something that’s not migraine-inducing, and then the other part recalls the fact that Sana has a tendency to become whiny and distracted after long hours of focusing on one thing.

_She did love to drag me shopping all the time._

“It hasn’t changed much over the years. If anything, Osaka has just grown livelier.” Mina shrugs, still scrolling through her inbox. She has to suppress a yawn from escaping and pinches the bridge of her nose. There’s been a growing ache there since a few hours ago, but they’re almost done. She can’t afford to relax now.

“Right, Osaka. How is it?”

“Wouldn’t you know? You’re from there.” Mina lets slip without thinking. Eyes widening a second later, she apologizes, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” She didn’t mean to what? Why does she keep making these mistakes?

Sana sighs and plays with one of the strands of her hair - another small habit of hers. “It’s fine. We’re probably not going to make much progress if you’re too hung up about the past.”

_...Oh I’M too hung up about the past?_

Wow Sana sure doesn’t seem to care how Mina’s been all these years. The bitterness rises again and she swallows thickly in an effort to force it down. Some toxic, simmering acid sits just under the surface of whatever relationship they have and if left be it’ll just poison the entire project until it goes right down the drain. The question is how to fix it.

“So if you have questions you can ask them. I’ll answer them to the best of my ability.” Sana offers a tired smile, tapping her nails on the table. It might make things worse, if they actually talk about it, but Mina’s willing to take the risk. She’ll finally get some answers, right?

Gingerly, she closes her laptop lid. “How did you...manage all these years?”

“I stayed with a friend.”

 _Obviously._ But it doesn’t count as an answer if it’s just her speculations.

“To be honest...if her family didn’t take me in I probably wouldn’t have made it. They definitely did much more for me than was really necessary, I’m really grateful to them.”

Mina had feared that as well. But that’s not what she’s worried about now. The younger of the two frowns, “...Who did you stay with?”

“You remember Momo?”

Ah. The first person Mina went to when Sana disappeared. “Yeah sort of.”

Sana nods. “Her family took me in and treated me like their own. I um...transferred schools and Momo went with me even though I told her she really shouldn’t, really didn’t need to, but she was very adamant. I couldn’t sway her in the end.” She gives a chuckle.

 _You didn’t give me a chance to convince you..._ Fuck her. Fuck Hirai Momo. She didn’t tell Mina squat. “I see…" That’s why Momo transferred out. That little liar. And here Mina had thought Momo to be the aloof, sweet, couldn’t-lie-to-save-her-life type. She should’ve known. “Is she well?”

Sana nods, “Yeah, we’ve kept in touch. She’s working in Kyoto.”

_They kept in touch._

“Anyways I think that’s enough for now, it’s getting late we should probably start.”

“Eh?”

“Let’s get back to work, shall we?” She’s looking at her like that again, with that gaze—like a pistol pressed into the small of her back and Mina agrees without much protest.

“I mean, uh, sure.” The abrupt end to that line of conversation takes Mina aback. Surely Sana doesn’t think that level of clarity is enough to satisfy her? Not by a long shot. But Mina refuses to be the one to pry.

She shifts in her seat, back a little straighter. A few seconds is all it takes to switch her mindset and as soon as she does, she fixes her gaze on Sana and nods once. Mina’s ready.

But Sana doesn’t move.

“Sana-ssi?” Mina calls after a few seconds, noting the furrow in Sana’s brow.

Sana jolts a little before sending her a wide smile that is equal parts blinding as disturbing. “Yes, of course, let’s get to work.”

\---

A vibration in her pocket snaps Mina out of her stupor. They’re not meeting today, and Mina can’t find it in herself to leave her room or even get dressed properly. Remaining in her pajamas and the complimentary robe (which is fluffier than she’d expect), she ends up spending the whole day at her desk and it’s already evening by the time she checks the hour. Crawling out of the office chair the hotel provides, she flops on the bed to answer the phone. “Hello?”

.

.

.

“Hai I understand. I should be back by tomorrow then. I just need to book a flight. Hai, thank you.”

 _I should send an email to Sana._ Is Mina’s immediate thought as she ends the call.

She sits up and slips her laptop out of her bag.

**Dear Sana-ssi,**

**Hello, I’m sorry for the late notice, but I have just been told to return to Japan as soon as possible. Something has come up on my end and it seems we will have to put our meetings on hold for a few days. Feel free to contact me if you need anything. I’m not yet sure how long of an absence it will be, but I will keep you updated. I apologize again for the inconvenience.**

**Myoui Mina**  
**Marketing Manager**  
**XXX Inc.**  
**xxx-xxx-xxx**

Mina proofreads it three times, changing a few words here and there to make it more professional before she forces herself to hit send. Not one minute passes and she hasn’t moved from her spot when her phone rings again.

 **Minatozaki Sana-ssi** \- the caller ID reads.

Mina pauses, then scrambles to answer. “...Hello?”

_“You’re going back to Japan?!”_

Her voice is a little loud and Mina winces. “Yes, something came up. I’ll likely be gone for a few days to a week. I’m sorry we have to put the project on hold.”

_“Don’t worry about it! We’re already ahead, so a few days off won’t make much of a difference.”_

“You can email me any details, I’ll likely work on what I can while I’m gone anyways.”

 _“I’m not going to let you work on it by yourself.”_ She sounds indignant.

“Why not? We can get more done that way. And it’s not like I’m finishing the entire thing.” Mina can hear Sana sigh on the other end.

_“Mina...group projects are group projects you know? Stop trying to do it all on your own.”_

Mina taps at a key on her laptop. A moment passes before she can come with an appropriate response. “Okay I understand. I won’t work on the project.” _Much._

_“Atta girl.”_

She rolls her eyes but can’t stop her features from cracking in a smile. “Yeah okay. Anyways I have to go soon. I need to book a flight, preferably as soon as I can.”

_“Oh, okay. I’ll uh leave you to it then.”_

In the back of her mind, Mina had thought Sana might ask to keep talking even as she booked the flight. She nods even if Sana can’t see it. “I’ll talk to you later?”

_“Yes! I’ll be here when you get back.”_

Mina giggles silently. _Since when is Korea ‘back’?_ “Then I’ll see you then.”

_“Yeah...Take care Mina.”_

“You too.”

 _“I...Goodnight.”_ Sana hangs up first.

Mina lets out a sigh and falls back on the bed, heart swimming with mixed emotions the happier of which include contentment, the sadder maybe something like regret. A spot in the middle of her spine won’t stop throbbing and the backs of Mina’s eyes sting terribly as she rolls onto her side.

If they had said goodbye eight years ago, would it have felt like this?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff starts next chapter, I promise. Oh and Happy Mina Day!


	2. Strangers

Mina’s back in Korea again, but a different cafe this time (she might as well try all the Americanos in Seoul at this rate). They don’t ever meet at Sana’s company even though she’s sure they can borrow one of the meeting rooms or clear out an empty cubicle for Mina, but when she asks, Sana just tells her she prefers working outside the stifling atmosphere of the office. It doesn’t make sense. However, Sana brings any necessary documents with her (she always did prefer paper over electronics) and can email her colleagues with little to no lag time so it doesn’t bother Mina. Except this time Sana has chosen to sit next to her for some reason and Mina can’t for the life of her figure out why her nerves won’t settle down.

The two weeks in Japan (though longer than intended) had helped clear her head a little, and she’d personally informed her superiors of their progress on the campaign whom were pleased with how smoothly it’s been going. More importantly, Mina also got the chance to steady her resolve when it came to...personal matters.

Sana sitting next to her is threatening that calm.

Sneaking a glance to the side, Sana’s still heatedly expanding on what platforms they’ll be distributing the ads on and how they expect the market to react, giving no indication of noticing Mina’s turmoil.

Suddenly Mina’s sent back to high school, to one time out of many at the library when Sana was tutoring her over history, which was the only subject that Sana had a better grade than her in. They’d been sitting at one of the long tables side by side, peering over Sana’s neat notes while Sana explained some ancient story about some emperor that Mina only had interest in because Sana was explaining it. She had a way of making anything seem fun. Or maybe it was Mina that was too boring.

“-long will it take?”

“Huh? Sorry what were you saying?”

Sana rolls her eyes yet a smile tugs at her lips. The first one all day. Not that Mina’s counting. Sana taps at the paper between them filled with scribbles and highlights. It was pristine before they started. “I was asking when your team can get this part done. My superiors want it as soon as possible even though I keep telling them quality takes time, but then again all they want is money.” She shrugs.

Mina blinks, “Are you sure you should be talking about your bosses like that?”

“Oh please what they can’t hear won’t hurt them.” Sana bats her lashes over her shoulder at Mina like she’s the one who needs convincing.

Mina snorts, “Yeah say that again when they cut your payroll.” A feigned gasp rings in her ear.

“You wouldn’t dare tattle to my company, would you? Mina I taught you better than that!”

She can only roll her eyes and it’s enough to get Sana to give up the act. Sana achieved her goal anyway. Mina’s smiling; they both are.

“Well the head of HR happens to be one of my best friends anyways, there’s no way she’d cut my pay.”

Mina raises a brow. “Are you sure? I don’t know about you, but our HR head is a demon—or so the other employees say. She could talk you into coming into work even if you’re seriously hungover from drinking until eight in the morning.”

“What? That’s insane how can she even know you’re just hungover and not plain sick?” Sana reaches to take a sip of the complimentary water. They’ve been stuck in this booth in the corner for the better of three hours now just dividing up the time frame. (Mina is not-surprisingly adept at organizing and knowing her limits, but Sana is also good at getting what she wants which in turn is what her company wants as well.) Now her throat is a little dry for comfort.

“She doesn’t care. She just has an uncanny ability of persuasion to the highest degree. We joke that she’s the spawn of the devil. Or maybe the reincarnation of Satan.” Mina muses, “I wish someone would’ve told me I’m best friends with Satan.”

And Sana ends up spluttering half the liquid back out in a mist.

“Hey! Be careful!” Mina scolds in her soft voice.

“Sorry!” Sana apologizes. It’s completely ruined by her grin though, as she watches Mina dab at the table with napkins.

“What?” Asks Mina when she catches Sana staring.

“Nothing~ Your friend sounds a lot like mine is all. Hey maybe they’d get along! You should introduce me next time I’m in Japan or if she’s ever in Korean. I’d love to meet one of your colleagues.”

Mina swallows, turning away from Sana’s gaze. “Um yeah, sure.” Her mind starts running again to places she’d rather not be. She’s well aware they’re stepping into the territory of something more than just pleasantries yet imagining Sana meeting Nayeon sends an involuntary flutter against the inside of her sternum (or a cacophony of drums is more like it), but it’d be really nice if they had the same friends - a small part of Mina wishes for it. But she also knows that Nayeon wouldn’t hesitate to assassinate Sana if they ever met. She has a penchant for dramatics and Mina wouldn’t put it past her to go to extremes for Mina’s sake. It wouldn’t be the first time which is both awe-inspiring because why anyone would go to such lengths for someone like her, but also bone-chilling because Mina doesn’t want to have to visit Nayeon in prison.

“I’ll introduce you to Jihyo too! I met her a few years ago and she’s been looking after me ever since even though she’s younger. You’d never know though, unless she told you. She’s really realiable~”

All kidding aside though, the real problem lies not with Nayeon’s murderous tendencies—Mina’s not really sure if she’s ready to have Sana back in her life yet. The thought had occurred to her that after this project finished, they had the option to either keep meeting, or never meet again. And now Sana is suggesting the former, while Mina had resolutely expected the later.

She’ll just tell Nayeon not to straight-out murder Sana. Nayeon can just settle for egging her car or something.

Mina nods, slowly. Sana beams.

“Great! I can invite her over for dinner later and you guys can meet!” She’s already got her phone out, typing away.

“Dinner?” Mina glances at her watch. “Well I guess that gives us a few more hours to finish the scheduling.”

“Scheduling?”

“Yeah.” She side-eyes Sana warily. “We should wrap this up today. There’s still more to discuss.”

“Oh Mina always such an honor student.” Sana tsks, waggling a finger in front of her face. The 360 in Sana’s behavior nearly gives Mina whiplash. “At this point we should just wrap up for the day and get lunch, what do you say?”

“We can just eat here.” They _are_ in a cafe.

“No no no we should go somewhere else. You can’t eat in the same place you work! It’s bad for digestion.”

Mina’s right eye twitches as her mind runs through all the different ways that phrase defies logic but she does her best to squash it down because really it’s too much of a headache to correct Sana when she gets like this. Honestly what happened to the purely professional Minatozaki from their last meetings, or even earlier today? She sighs and agrees nonetheless. “Alright fine. Lead the way, since you’re the Seoul resident here.”

“Yes!”

\---

Any history they might’ve had, Mina will forget. The relationship between them is anything but stable, and Mina’s afraid of taking a wrong step on the hollow ground. But if this is what she has to do to keep that smile on Sana’s face, keep that bounce in her step, then she’ll do it.

Mina smiles and nods as Sana points out some of her favorite places as they walk along.

The decision is made in a fraction of a second. She’ll pretend they’re strangers meeting for the first time, if it means Sana will stay by her now.

\---

Lunch is...surprisingly uneventful. Less anxiety-inducing than Mina expects and over before she even registers. The playful banter continues all throughout and Mina carefully eases herself into it (still much faster than she would of it were someone completely foreign). It was...nice.

“Oh we’re having dinner at my flat.”

“Huh?” Mina whips her head towards Sana and almost stumbles when the subway jerks to the side. Well she actually does but doesn’t fall at least. Sana grabs onto her upper arm last second and stabilizes her. She murmurs a thank you and Sana brushes her off with a simple smile and nod.

“We can eat out if you want! I’d have to tell Jihyo though and since we already ate out today, I thought some home cooking would be nice.”

“Oh, no it’s okay!” Mina says a little hastily. “I just—You didn’t say.”

“Oh okay then!”

Here’s another step into dangerous territory, inviting a new co-worker over only a few weeks into a project. But it’s Sana taking the step this time, and the knowledge of that keeps Mina grounded when it shouldn’t. She doesn’t think about it.

And that’s how Mina finds herself in Sana’s condo, exactly eight minutes later when there’s still an hour or two until Jihyo arrives when they could’ve stayed out for a bit longer because honestly Mina was right about not being ready and suddenly this whole thing feels so much more intimate than it was when they were just sitting side by side in the café and—how exactly is she going to survive.

She’s still fighting this inner monologue when she slips off her shoes, taking a second to look around while Sana fetches them some tea and snacks (that girl will never stop eating), and the train of thought abruptly fades away as Mina notes a few things she associates with Sana. The shelf of books and CDs, specifically things like Japanese-Korean dictionaries and albums from girl groups that Sana’s loved since their middle school days. The purple yoga mat, because Sana’s always been conscious about her figure. The room is filled with items but not so much that it’s a mess, because contrary to her image sometimes, Sana is actually very neat and organizes her stuff into their own areas. Mina is also neat, but she owns less stuff in general that doesn’t require sorting out.

—Then there are the things that look like they’re transported directly from Sana’s room back at their parent’s house. (The room is emptied out now, Mina did it herself.)

There’s the default chair with a few articles of clothing draped on it (not a school uniform this time). A desk covered in papers with a lamp in the corner (did she buy the same lamp again?).

And the bed with the white sheets is without the colorful comforter from the past, but Mina smiles at the folded blanket on the corner littered with designs of donuts and candies that is very nearly identical.

Not much has changed. Mina’s not sure if that’s a good revelation or not.

\---

“You mean you invited me over for dinner...so I can make it.”

“No! Well, kinda, but I’ll make it too!” Sana amends quickly, already squatting in front of an open cabinet of her kitchen island and peering through her collection of pots (mostly unused). Mina stands nearby, one brow quirked, posture a slightly stiff because the floor is one she’s never stepped on, in a kitchen she’s never used, at an apartment she’s never visited, and with someone she ~~knows~~ knew very well. “I just need some help, Jihyo forbade me from using the kitchen unless someone else is cooking with me.”

“And I’m guessing that ‘someone else’ is Jihyo herself? And that she does most of the cooking?”

Sana giggles sheepishly, glancing up at Mina over the edge of the cabinet door. “She’s a better cook than I am.”

“Uh huh.”

They decide on rabokki. Sorry, Sana’s _special_ rabokki as the burgundy-haired girl corrects. She’d also commented on Mina’s hair, which is now long enough to reach her waist, while Sana’s is chest-length.

(“Your hair looks nice!” At some random point during lunch, Sana states and Mina suddenly feels self-conscious about her wavy chestnut locks. “You never dyed your hair in high school even when I asked you to do it with me.”

Mina remembers Sana’s light brown hair. It looked really nice on her. She also remembers being envious but their mother had hinted at being against Mina dying her hair. Why Sana could was another story she never knew.

“Black hair did suit you though. You’re always so elegant and pretty.”

Mina nearly chokes.)

Throughout the clinks of pots and plates and small talk (Mina is definitely the chef here despite it being Sana’s kitchen because she’s wearing the apron and doing most of the stirring), they mention things about each other’s personality and Mina tries to be casual and joking because that’s how Sana is, but it’s a little stifling, talking about facts strangers wouldn’t know. The air is hotter than what Mina sets her own flat’s temperature as, but she doesn’t feel she has the right to say anything about it. She’s just visiting—a temporary factor in this place and temporary factors don’t get to influence permanent ones in the long run.

Sana makes fun of her when Mina calculates the ratio of sauce to tteokbokki, bringing up her odd perfectionist/competitive streak Mina’s had since probably birth. Sana could challenge her to anything from getting the better grade to who could flip a bottle and get it land upright first, and Mina would step up to the challenge (and win). Still, she sends Sana her best glare in response and Sana laughs.

“I never understood how you could get so worked up over winning a game of air hockey but not care if you got student of the year. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Sana giggles, stirring the pot a little too vigorously. A dot of sauce spills onto the stovetop and Mina tries not to care. It’s not her stovetop.

She rolls her eyes. “I like winning okay? And should I remind you of that time we were playing video games and you killed me even though I was your _partner_?”

“Hey! I asked you who was behind that crate and you didn’t answer me so I shot it!” Sana reaches around Mina for the first bowl.

“But you couldn’t aim and hit anything else so how did you manage to kill _only_ _me_?!” She hands it to Mina just as the brunette lifts the first ladle of steaming stew.

“I don’t know!”

“It was a headshot too! A blind headshot!” The exasperation comes back like it was just yesterday. Sana gestures for her to take the filled bowl to the table along with a fresh pot of tea, and their fingers brush when Mina relinquishes the ladle to Sana’s eager hands. Her mind jolts for a split second because jesus Sana is actually _there_ and that little bit of contact proves it, but outwardly she doesn’t react. “Jeez if I knew you were such a good shot I would’ve chosen a different game. Next time we’ll play a sniping one, then I can shoot at you too.” Mina grumbles just a little unhappily. She sets the items on Sana’s solid wood dining table then straightens, not sure if she should sit yet or wait for Jihyo to come.

Then Sana walks in from the kitchen. She’s grinning and only now does Mina notice how that single strand not tucked into her ponytail seems to frame her face in just the right way, how her neck looks so much slimmer with her hair up, how her collarbones are so perfectly straight peeking out from under the collar of her dress shirt of which Sana had taken the liberty of releasing the topmost button. (She’d slipped off her blazer and hung it on her chair just before the dinner-making started.) Mina realizes very apparently that _that_ part of her hasn’t changed the slightest bit except the bit of distance makes everything fresh as new. Mina’s heart does a flop.

“Next time huh? You’re still playing video games? Of course I wouldn’t expect anything less even if you’re an adult now, you’re obsessed with those~” Sana pulls out a chair and Mina unwittingly moves to sit opposite of her in her usual seat. “Sure I’ll play, but you’ll have to bring the game here or invite me over, kay?”

“O—” Mina clears her throat. “Okay.”

Almost for a decade now, Mina had pointedly avoided talking about her family in any situation. Anytime someone asked, Mina would deflect and say they were a pretty normal household, but she would never answer any questions about her siblings. Most people just assumed she was an only child. The only time she ever talked about her sister was to Nayeon, because that girl is a literal emotional bulldozer and won’t take no for an answer whenever Mina’s feeling down. And almost every time, the cause of her sudden depression would be the same. It was never easy to speak about, because saying it out loud meant acknowledging and realizing whatever she felt, and that was something Mina didn’t need to know. Could’ve gone her whole life without knowing, but then again Nayeon could’ve gone through all of college without losing precious hours of sleep in the dead of the night listening to Mina whimper and choke over the phone.

Now, sitting here and facing that cause, Mina’s not sure how she should be feeling. Maybe she should be happy, because the person is actually there, but should Mina really feel happy about the difference between drowning in a lake or an ocean?

\---

Jihyo is a riot. Mina can’t bring herself to dislike her in the slightest.

She’d thought maybe she wouldn’t take to Jihyo so quickly, because Mina’s always been reserved about meeting new people (that and Jihyo’s been there with Sana all these years while Mina hasn’t) but she really shouldn’t have expected any less from one of Sana’s friends. The girl is loud, has a boisterous laugh, a kind smile, and a strict work ethic from what Mina’s heard from Sana about Jihyo’s lectures to other employees, but she finds it hard to believe from how giddy Jihyo is when she steps inside the threshold and immediately beams at Mina with a grin reserved for the happiest individuals, all because she smells budae jjigae in the air. (The slight change in menu is due their earlier discovery that the tteokbokki was too rock solid to be edible, because _somebody_ had forgotten to soak them beforehand and it wasn’t Mina.)

Sana keeps complaining about wanting sweet and sour pork too, but Jihyo won’t let her order it because ‘Mina went to the trouble of making dinner’, ‘there’s plenty for the three of them to eat their fill already’, and Sana should ‘appreciate’ it by finishing it all. She says all this while getting seconds from the kitchen (they should've just brought the pot out), voice booming and Mina blinks because she probably couldn’t even be that loud if she was under the threat of being stabbed in a back alley. Okay so maybe Mina can see how Jihyo gets her reputation.

It’s a lot of fun actually, dinner. Mina finds herself laughing before she realizes when something catches her off guard, and she doesn’t think she’s felt quite so relaxed in a while. Again, Jihyo is a riot.

“You tried to cook tteokbokki straight out of the freezer?”

“I didn’t think we’d be eating it today!”

“She tried to add frozen tteokbokki to the pot anyways though—that’s why we’re eating budae jjigae instead.” Mina reveals and Jihyo murmurs with a look of slight disgust.

“Well I guess it’s better than the time you microwaved an egg.”

“What?”

Sana groans, letting her head loll to the side. “Don’t ask...”

And Mina frowns because she’s sure that is one of the most basic rules of cooking, or not cooking, and she wants to clarify how Sana didn’t know that but Jihyo offers first, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you about it anyways so you don’t have to ask.” She even winks and Mina’s feels the corners of her lips lifting before breaking out in a laugh because Jihyo might be more playful than Mina initially took her for, which is especially evident as she scoots forward in her seat towards Mina with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay so you’d think it was a hard-boiled egg, but no I mean she microwaved a regular raw egg with the shell and all...”

They talk about work, their hobbies (Jihyo’s brows raise high when she hears Mina’s a Resident Evil—Biohazard in Japan—addict), and even their school years. It’s surprisingly okay, sharing stories about high school even though Sana and Mina have different memories, but maybe that’s due to Jihyo’s easy presence and Mina is reminded of her own best friend. She wonders if Jihyo knows about them too.

Mina giggles when Sana recounts the time she snuck some takeout jokbal into the library with Momo, exaggerating the whole thing into some serious bond movie ordeal, fingers clasped in a mock gun shape humming the theme song and all. It’s funny. Mina’s laugh isn’t forced at all.

\---

Just before dinner ends, some soup ends up on Sana’s cheek when she tries to slurp up the remaining ramyeon far too eagerly, and Mina wipes it away with a napkin, giggling when Sana sticks her face out for better reach. They toss the dishes along with the pot in the sink to deal with later, and Jihyo reveals the bottle of wine she’d brought to share with a sly smirk. They move to sit around the coffee table where Jihyo raises a toast to the budae jjigae of all things but three glasses clink happily together anyway. The warmth from dinner keeps Mina cozy and she might just fall asleep right where she’s leaning back against the couch after touching glasses. It’s perfect, the easy atmosphere, the soft music Sana put on her speakers (Jazz instead of idols for once), the lingering spiciness from the ramyeon seasoning she secretly added, and Mina thinks her face might split if she smiles any harder; Sana mirrors the expression when they meet gazes. An invisible grip instantly crushes all the air out of Mina’s lungs and suddenly she’s under again.

This. This is how things should’ve been. They’ve already spent the whole day together yet somehow each little moment is more eventful than the last, creating layer upon layer of new memories to save in Mina’s memory bank. There’s already enough to satisfy Mina for at least a year, but unfortunately, there isn’t enough to fill eight.

She blames it on the night. With the darkness and absence of the sun, Mina always seems to lose herself.

It’s with this sentimental mood that Mina and Sana finally reveal their shared childhood adventures, having avoided them earlier out of initial courtesy to Jihyo, who wasn’t involved in their years of history. Many of such stories involve a young Sana teasing an even younger Mina, and back then Mina would be very irritated because Sana’s too good with words, which in turn made it the only kind of battle Mina always lost so she tended to get very pouty. Now she feels longing over anything else.

Of the memories they relay to Jihyo, one in particular sends Mina deep down memory lane – the time Mina decided she wanted to learn skateboarding so they borrowed one from some guy in their class for a day (or Sana did because Mina didn’t want to bother anyone). That day ended with very painfully scraped knees for Mina (because they’d forgotten to borrow the safety pads too), but also a piggy back ride home from the park. Sana had complained about her being heavy the whole way and she complains about it more now, until Jihyo reminds her of the time she had to carry a drunk Sana nine blocks to her building because the office party had run late, Sana had gotten too greedy, and there were no cabs nor subways running those streets at that time. Sana promptly shuts up after that revelation (and after thanking Jihyo again).

She pecks Jihyo on the cheek in gratitude, Mina tries not to fume, but luckily before she can, Sana turns to give her a peck, too, ‘just because’ she says with a cute little blush that may or may not be due to the alcohol. Now that makes a gummy smile bloom. Mina thinks she likes an inebriated Sana, and maybe they should drink more often, even if it means she’d have to carry Sana’s deadass home in the middle of the night.

It wouldn’t be the first time she carried a drunk-as-hell girl home anyways, which then leads Mina to explain how she met her best friend (the drunk-as-hell girl she carried all the way back to their dorm on their first meeting).

“Nayeon was my sunbae in university. She helped me out a lot.” Mina speaks in Korean, as they have been all night because Jihyo is still training to learn Japanese.

“Yeah? Just a sunbae?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jihyo!” Sana smacks the arm of the woman with the chocolate bob and the latter pouts, but then chooses to ignore Sana for raising her brows at Mina.

“I mean, you never dated her or anything? Not that I’m judging, if you have a taste for older women.” Her voice holds a suggestive lilt and Mina thinks they should limit Jihyo’s alcohol intake. She’s been getting rowdier and rowdier as time passes.

“Ha!” Damn her smirk. Mina takes another sip of her wine. It’s really good; she should ask Jihyo where she got it. “Hmm~ Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” And maybe her own intake too. Sana’s eyes fly wide open at this and so does her mouth, which is hilarious enough to Mina for her to fall over laughing, while Jihyo just cackles without a care in the world and Mina’s proud to have elicited such a reaction. The neighbors will probably complain tomorrow.

“Oh my god Mina, give me your number we should hang more often.”

\---

“Come on. Let’s get some fresh air.” And Sana’s up and at the door before Mina can even blink.

They end up in the park. Night has really fallen now, and Mina’s hands are especially cold. She didn’t have time to dry them after washing the dishes earlier. (Sana smashed one against the faucet and then she was banned from ‘washing’ anymore.)

“Ah I’m so full~”

Mina hums in response and tucks her hands further into her coat pockets. They pass in and out of the light of the street lamps, Sana leading them down the wide sidewalk lined with benches that cuts through the center of the park.

“Thanks for making dinner. It was really good.” She sounds a little drained, but anyone would be after such an eventful day. It’s really only the adrenaline that keeps Mina going now.

“No problem. I’m glad you liked it.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...I had fun today.” And when Sana doesn’t say anything but a sleepy hum, Mina continues. “It reminded me of when we were little—that first time you tried to cook ramen on your own and dragged me into helping. We made a mess of the kitchen and I thought we’d get grounded for sure...but Mom wasn’t really mad, just made us clean it up.” She chuckles at the fond memory.

“...”

“And remember that time you tried to make samgyetang because I was sick but you got your hand stuck inside the chicken?” She stands up straighter in a sudden spike of excitement because it was hilarious, the way Sana panicked and ran around the house with an entire chicken in place of her right hand, and also because Sana is being oddly quiet and if Mina jabs at her maybe she’ll snap out of it. Sana doesn’t respond the way Mina wants her to. She turns, slowing down and Mina takes a hesitant one or two more steps before they stop completely. “What?”

“Mina, um,” Sana’s gaze is averted again, darting back and forth between Mina and some tufts of grass peeking out between the sidewalk cracks, and she looks maybe even regretful. “I don’t think our childhood was...as great as you remember it.”

“...What do you mean.”

“I mean...I kinda noticed when you were talking earlier and I don’t want to burst your bubble, but you seem to think we had a happy little family...and we really didn’t.” She punctuates the statement with a sigh, shoulders drooping. Every time they talk about their family, Sana gets all tired and exasperated, like it’s some burden. Like some mistake. Is that what this is? A mistake? Did she do it again?

“...I-I know.”

“Do you?”

“...”

“Then did you know our parents are remarried, Mina?” Sana drops nonchalantly and in no time at all, Mina’s already whipped to face her when she was just scraping her shoe against the pavement earlier. “We’re not even related.” She can detect the subtle joking undertone in Sana’s voice, but it’s barely there and forced.

A stilted heartbeat passes, and Mina can feel the blood thrumming in her ears. Wave after wave rushes against her eardrums and Mina’s not sure she heard correctly. “...You’re serious.”

“Why would I be kidding?” And Sana faces her too. The park is eerily devoid of life, the lamps few and far between. The light of one just barely reaches them, and with eyes half-lidded, the night makes Sana’s pupils blacker than usual. “I’m sure Dad never told you. Because you’re the princess, you didn’t need to know.” Some air puffs out of Sana’s nose in a mock chuckle. “Some dad he was. He never did anything he was supposed to.”

“But he wasn’t—he was an okay father. He didn’t treat us bad.” One of Sana’s eyebrows lifts.

“Have you spoken to them recently, Mina?”

“Eh? No?...”

“Hmm I wonder why~ Maybe it’s because you’ve finally realized how they treat you?”

“What do you mean ‘how they treat me’?”

Sana’s gaze is almost pitiful, a little sharper now. “You still haven’t noticed how they basically treat you like an object? Mina, do they ever seem to care about how you’re feeling, if you’re tired or sad or sick?”

“T-They ask me how I’m doing every once in a while. Every night at dinner before I moved out.”

“That’s how you’re _doing_ ,” Sana points out as she starts walking again, and Mina maintains the distance. “Not how you’re feeling. And I bet you tell them about how school is going and any achievements you’ve accomplished lately.”

Mina swallows. “You always used to ask how I feel.” _Before you left._

“I know.” A sigh. “I’m sorry.” Finally Sana apologizes, but Mina just gives a shake of her head. She’s not really mad anymore. It’s been too long. But now that she has apologized and that’s out of the way, at least they might be able to move on.

—Wait...Mina pauses in her steps. “Wh-Which one of us is…”

Sana frowns, but then turns and opens her mouth in understanding, “Ah you mean who’s actually related to each of our parents?”

Mina nods.

“Mom is yours. And Dad is mine.”

She really should’ve realized. “They always said I looked like Mom…”

Minatozaki.

“Hmm, but they never said that you look nothing like Dad.”

 _Minatozaki_ Sana.

“And that I look nothing like Mom. Have you ever noticed how we don’t seem like sisters at all?”

It must be her mother’s maiden name.

Mina doesn’t answer and it seems Sana isn’t really expecting one. Just speaking her thoughts aloud. Mina follows as they exit the park again, Sana seemingly satisfied with their stroll and heading in the direction of her building. She follows, even though now would be the time to excuse herself and head back to her hotel but she doesn’t. Mina follows, and she’ll keep following as long as Sana will allow her, and as she walks just a step behind, amongst the uncertainty and the bitterness and the longing, she feels something unfamiliar yet calming rise within her. She has noticed.

Mina smiles and makes sure not to let Sana see it.

\---

Three this time. Today was a long day, a roller coaster ride, so Mina doesn’t forget to take them before bed—it helps her sleep better. Keeps away the nightmares.

\---

It doesn’t take long, and within the next couple months, Mina is already getting better at letting Sana into her life and inserting herself into Sana’s. This started when Mina had to go back to Korea again after returning home to run the project within her own team. They’d gone beyond the need to meet up every other day rather every month or so (Mina had tried not to think about what that meant for them). However, something had come up and required her to personally visit the company office and sort it out. They apologized but only as a pleasantry, and booked her another hotel room all travel expenses paid. Sana canceled it.

( _“You can just stay at my place.”_ Sana scoffs, as if she’s personally offended that Mina didn’t get the penthouse suite of the closest five-star hotel. “ _That hotel they keep booking you is too cheap. You’d think they’d get you a better room since you’re practically running the whole project.”_

Mina refrains from pointing out that it’s really Sana running the whole thing, just closes her mouth tight in order not to laugh. The twitch of her cheeks is persistent though; it’s hard to resist. “It’s just one night really. I don’t mind.”

_“Aw that’s sweet of you, but you deserve better. Never settle for less! That’s the number one rule of dating~”_

The suppressed smile turns into in all-encompassing grin. “Am I dating your company now?” She leans against the hallway wall next to the vending machine, hoping no one will walk by to overhear their conversation because Mina doesn’t want to lose her image as the calm and cool businesswoman just yet. She can imagine Sana doing the same, settling back in her office seat, documents forgotten for the moment.

 _“Oh god no.”_ Sana sounds horrified. _“The guy in HR that’s been contacting you is the biggest geek I’ve ever met in my life. He keeps sneaking glances at me when I walk by and it’s creepy. I mean I look great in skirts but I don’t appreciate him trying to peek up it. I do not recommend dating him.”_

She can’t hold it, the bubbling in her stomach expands to her chest, filling all the spaces she didn’t know were there and bursts in a fit of bold laughter. “Yeah?”

 _“Yes! Even if you would bond over gaming. I know you’re a geek too but you’re much cuter~”_ Sana coos.

“Hmm, cute as a person or as a penguin?”

 _“Both!”_ )

Sometimes acting before thinking makes things so much easier.

Sana has an extra room—or _had_ one. It’s technically a guest room and Mina had seen it when Sana gave her a quick but meaningful tour the first time she was over, but at the time she would've never believed if you told her she'd end up staying in it, because now if her schedule allows it, Mina visits often enough that the room is really hers. The flight is only two hours, Mina argues. She’d rather discuss some things in person over coffee (sometimes freshly brewed by Sana’s Keurig and sipped at the dinner table) than over email or phone.

And she doesn’t visit every weekend, mind you. It’s only when she’s free and has nothing better to do than Mina’s usual stay-at-home relaxation routine (video games), which she brings with her the very first time she stays over. But it’s just to make good on her promise to play that game she mentioned with Sana! (And maybe for the satisfaction of finally getting payback for Sana’s last video game mutiny).

She thinks she should probably be more careful though, about how easily she’s falling into this routine. But she’s not the only one. Sana herself, didn’t even know what it meant when she invited Mina to live with her—okay not live with her per se, just when Mina visited, which was a lot. Sana didn’t expect that.

So when she steps out of the elevator one day after a bit of overtime, eyelids drooping even as she reads over her numerous emails most of which are from her new subordinates that still haven’t gotten the hang of the job yet, it’s like a splash of cold water in the face when she spots Mina outside her door.

Mina. Sitting on her carrier, legs parted in that penguin squatting thing she does with her feet pointing outwards, dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks, arms crossed, and one hand holding her phone in front of her face with eyes trained on the screen. Then a chuck of hair frees itself from behind her shoulder and she flicks it back again fluidly.

It’s unfair how she’s still so attractive at the end of the day when they’ve both gone through the same tedious hours.

“M-Mina?!” Her voice registers a second later and Mina lifts her head.

“Hi, you’re late.” She states flatly.

There are dark circles under her eyes, Sana notices, but Mina still lights up when she sees Sana. If letting Mina stay over means sometimes she gets to see Mina waiting for her after work with that little smile, then Sana decides it’s probably the best decision she ever made. It’s been a long time since she’s had anyone waiting at home for her. And maybe they’re not strangers after all.

She gives Mina a key, just so she doesn’t have to wait outside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made small edits to the first chapter because I wasn't really satisfied with it. And here are some Misana [sketches](https://twitter.com/Kei_yuu/status/1111754153049681925) because dress shirts and blazers are my shit.


	3. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I see Mina and Sana go about [making dinner](https://twitter.com/Kei_yuu/status/1115073483246063616) from last chap

 

“Sorry,” Sana says as she steps out of the bathroom toweling her damp hair. “I feel like I’m not being a very good host.”

While Sana had been taking a refreshing and well-deserved shower, Mina had done all the grunt work of cleaning the dishes and wiping the table, taking out the trash and even had time to make some popcorn for them. Netflix is already open on Sana’s tv, she sees.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it. You were always a sucky older sister anyways.” Mina melts further into the couch and Sana is nearly offended at how comfy Mina looks in her fuzzy penguin pajamas with a large bowl of popcorn in her lap.

“Excuse me?” She blinks. “I was a great sister!”

Mina shrugs, popping another kernel in her mouth, the corners quirking involuntarily. “I said a ‘sucky _older_ sister’. You would’ve made a great younger one.”

Now Sana’s really offended. “What do you mean?! I took care of you just fine! And you’re the younger one because you were always depressed over everything!”

“Isn’t that what the older sister’s usually like? I mean, you were always so energetic and bubbly and overwhelmingly giggly. You could’ve been years younger with the way your personality is.” She pauses. “No offense.”

“How am I not supposed to take offense to that?”

“You can take it as a compliment. I said you look young.” A quirk of her lips is all it takes to let Sana know Mina’s in one of those rare moods, when she gets kind of playful and teasing and not all uptight like she usually is. If only she’d show that side to other people more often.

Sana’s eyes narrow. “That is definitely _not_ what you said just now.”

Mina lets out a breathy laugh and continues eating her popcorn. She’s a little sleepy, and it’s like a dream, moments like these. A few munches later, “...Can we watch the movie now?”

Sana groans, loops the towel around her neck. “Why are you like this?” Shoulders slumping, she trudges lazily over to the couch and plops down, Mina nudging her with a knee for jostling her popcorn. “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything’s fine. But something good.”

\---

Mina starts questioning what they even are now. It was quite defined before, and though she despised the label she does like clarity.

Sisters? Not quite. Never really at all. Step-sisters? As much as Mina realizes she should loathe herself for being glad of this, Sana became an emancipated minor the moment she left, the paperwork just finalized it.

Family? Mina supposes they were, at some point. It’ll take time for that again.

Yet they’re not strangers. Mina can’t bring herself to treat Sana as a stranger. Friends? Yes maybe that's word. Mina will just think of Sana as a childhood friend that she hasn’t seen in years.

Yes, that’ll work just fine.

\---

“Are you free today?”

“Sorry, no I have a meeting with a client. Just a brunch meeting nothing serious.”

The words elicit a strange cold in her gut, and Mina finds breathing just a little more laborious than it should be. “How long will you be out?”

“I don’t know. A few hours probably.” Sana frowns as she searches for a certain blouse in her closet that she might’ve misplaced.

Mina regrets not phoning ahead. Of course Sana has a job that she has to attend to—Mina does as well. She...might’ve been neglecting it just a tiny bit.

It could be because Mina’s stuck in the past. Keeps thinking their back to their high school days, or middle school for Mina since Sana left barely a year after Mina started high school, but they’re not in school anymore. It’s been years since they graduated. Time to move on from her memories (not that she hasn’t been trying for years). But just, she can’t help but cling to the hope, that if Sana is there...maybe they can make new ones.

It’s not like Mina hasn’t noticed the changes. Eight years will definitely change a person, not necessarily in a bad way, but the weight of experience is obvious in the way Sana carries herself. The way her expression and tone changes during a business call. The way she comes home drained, with dark circles under her eyes after a long morning meeting and full day of work plus overtime. (Mina’s only had the privilege of witnessing that once, when she booked a late flight over because she no matter what couldn’t wait until morning.)

And the way Sana naturally gets up at six in the morning now, because that’s how early she needs to be to get to work with all the traffic. Mina was honestly surprised the one time she’d been brewing coffee in the kitchen when Sana stepped out of her room already dressed in a blouse and pencil skirt. (But it became routine after that, for them to split a pitcher of coffee while it’s still steaming and ignore each other in favor of their phones over the breakfast table because it’s way too early in the day for human interaction.)

Really it’s amazing how Sana is exactly like Mina remembers her, in the very basis of her personality, but also nothing like the Sana she knew in other aspects. Although between the two of them, maybe it’s not Sana that’s different. Maybe it’s Mina.

“I’ll be home later today since it’s only the one meeting.” Sana says shrugging on her blazer. She’s gone with the suit and tie look for once, which Mina herself prefers over skirts. “Are you going to be here when I get back, or are you going back to Tokyo for the rest of the weekend?”

Mina shakes her head. It’s only Saturday. “I’ll be here.”

She could lie and say she’s busy too. But she’s not. She made sure of that. And now she just wasted a trip across town for nothing. Her shoulder slump in disappointment.

Sana’s not going to have time for her all the time—Mina should’ve known that. She should’ve accepted that years ago, so why hasn’t she? God, the nagging in her ribs won’t let up.

The small smile Sana sends her is positively sinful, crushing her heart in the best way. “Okay then~”

Mina waves as Sana steps out the door with maybe a little spring in her step, turning back to send Mina finger hearts and it’s adorable and exasperating—the way that even in her current mood Mina can’t help her own smile upturning her lips. She rolls her eyes and fake shoos her out the door.

“Remember to eat!” Sana calls back.

“I’ll just order some take out!”

Maybe it’s Mina.

Because never before, has Mina wanted to kiss Sana so bad.

\--- 

Mina takes another pill when she gets home—not home. To her hotel. She lets it swirl in her mouth too long and the water becomes bitter. Sana’s on a business trip for the next few days. The condo doesn’t feel right without her there and Mina refuses to stay when it’s not actually hers (regardless of Sana’s insistence). This time, Mina had to meet with another representative from the corporation.

She doesn’t remember their name nor face.

\---

“Do you want to come visit me?” Her workload has grown and she can’t find time to head over to Sana so she settles for a call. “It’s almost spring. The cherry blossoms will bloom soon.” An excuse. Any excuse.

_“Sure! Wow it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to go to a real Japanese cherry orchard!”_

Mina giggles. “You sound like a foreigner. Or a tourist.”

_“I feel like one. I’ll be in your care then! When I visit~”_

She can see Sana’s expressions clearly just from the pitch of her voice.

“Of course. Expect the finest hospitality Japan has to offer~” She would add a wink, except she can’t wink and Sana can’t see it anyways.

Sana’s laugh rings out in Mina’s ear and it’s just a little quieter than it would be in person. She must be holding the phone away from her. _“Oh my god Mina I hate you sometimes.”_

“No you love me~”

Another giggle fit and Mina can’t help but join in.

_“You’re right, I do~”_

_And I do too._

\---

She couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep. It was one of those days—the ones where Mina feels like she hasn’t done enough in the day so her psyche tells her she doesn’t deserve to rest yet, that there’s still more she can do, something that makes the day worth it. She never knows what that something is though.

So she hovers. And hovers. Busies herself with work for a bit. Then hovers again. And before she knows it it’s already three in the morning. She has to get up in three hours.

Once she finally convinces herself to go brush her teeth, her bathroom routines takes twice as long just because she’s so sluggish and as she hits the bed her mind is still not allowing herself to rest, no matter how sleepy she is. Not yet, it says.

It’s one of those days. Those days when Mina hates being alone. When she feels like she’ll never have someone with her. Except Sana is here now, and sometime later Mina’s feet have already taken her out of bed and in front of Sana’s door. The light breathing coming from inside has Mina hesitating, her selfish feet refusing to budge all of a sudden, hand won’t lift to the doorknob.

She lets out a slow breath, one, two, three, four, five, six seconds pass and she gently lays her forehead against the wood, but it must’ve been a little too rushed, because it produces a gentle knock that really shouldn’t have been loud enough to wake Sana of all people, because she’s the deepest sleeper Mina knows, but the light breathing becomes inaudible and deliberate ruffling of covers has Mina’s breath hitching.

If she doesn’t go in now she’ll have woken Sana for nothing, and it’s only this logic that manages to push her inside.

She’d bought the bed on a whim. She can afford it just fine but why would there be a need for one when Mina lives alone and there’s a perfectly good couch for guests that she never has. Save for Nayeon. Nayeon can sleep on the couch. But she’d bought one for the spare room anyways, because deep down she’d always hoped, and she never thought it’d actually come true. Mina would’ve brought Sana’s old bed if she could’ve, but that was the first thing their parents threw away.

But maybe it’s not the bed that matters, because when she crawls under the covers, Sana murmuring a groggy ‘Mina?’, Mina has all she needs.

She didn’t mean to invite Sana over to deal with all of Mina’s issues. But she knows Sana won’t mind. It’s Mina that does.

It’s just one of those days. An awful excuse, but it’s just one of the rare days that Mina breaks. Makes sense that it’d be the day Sana visits Japan. When will she ever feel closer if not now? No time like the present, and Mina’s promised herself to stop wasting time like she used to.

“What’s wrong?” Sana immediately wraps her arms around Mina’s curled figure, palms flat and rubbing against her back in the way Mina was asking her to without words. “Do you want to talk?”

—This one phrase gives her all the permission she was looking for.

Mina starts by telling her about the time she got less than a hundred in a class—words spill out like a water from a dam, rushing and overwhelming and released from constraint. It might not seem like much, but for Mina whose parents would kiss up to the teacher with gifts and maybe threats to ensure the top grade, it’s a milestone—and not the good kind. She’d almost gotten hit when she returned to the house. Her dad stopped last second, but his eyes told her he really wanted to. Mina still flinches recalling the memory.

She tells her about she became student council president. How she only ran because Sana had run for president before but failed and got vice, so it was up to Mina to set the record straight and succeed.

She tells her about how she came home one day and found her parents had another fight. It was easy to guess the topic. They’ve been sensitive about everything since Sana left, but they’ve been especially concerned with how Mina’s being raised (she was already seventeen at the time) and their reputation among their other upper-class friends. None of their friends had a runaway daughter. Mina just went outside and retrieved her PlayStation from the cardboard box quietly—it had started raining—and wiped it off the best she could to stow safely under her bed until moving into the university dorms.

Mina tells her about how she applied to all the top colleges in and out of the country, only to find out her mother canceled all the ones abroad so she had to stay in Japan.

Hell Mina’s never even had any real friends (besides Nayeon, who kind of bulldozed her way into Mina’s life that she’s eternally grateful for) due to being busy with dance and school and extracurricular activities. And the Myoui name. No one wants to be real friends with a Myoui. Not when Mina’s known as the stuck up, rich, smartass bitch who’s the daughter of the dean of the biggest hospital in Osaka.

Sana only barely escaped that stigma only because she was outgoing and talked to people of her own accord, while Mina was too shy to. Or in other words, too arrogant to. And she can’t really blame people for thinking that, because Mina does act confident to convince herself that she’s worth something. That her achievements aren’t just empty trophies. She just can’t shake the feeling that everything she’s done isn’t good enough or even good in the first place and that people are just telling her so in some act of social obligation—

It’s at this point that Sana hushes her, because Mina’s been crying since a while ago and her snot might be soaking Sana’s shirt as the latter holds her close, rubbing her back and whispering reassurances against her scalp. The room is filled with the sounds of her whimpers and choked sobs and only when they calm down a little, does Sana speak aloud.

Sana reminds her of when she got her first award, back when their parents weren’t so strict and Mina was happy to present the certificate. It hung proudly on their refrigerator for a week, stuck on by little smiling ladybug magnets. When Mina mentions it was only for perfect attendance, Sana literally clamps a gentle hand over her mouth to make her shut up.

It makes Mina’s inhales difficult and drawn because her sinuses are all congested, but she accepts it.

Sana then reminds her of when Mina was accepted to the famous renowned ballet academy, an acceptance rate that was nearly nonexistent—a place her parents couldn’t just buy their way into. The hours of practice she put into perfecting her stance, how her feet bear the scars of the hard work and effort that she should be proud of. Not because of the praise of the people around her (though Sana had gushed over it more than anyone else) but because Mina genuinely loved dancing and this was her chance to pursue it further.

—She wasn’t allowed to attend the academy. She had to quit dancing in favor of extra classes, but Sana doesn’t know that. Sana lists more but somewhere along the way Mina’s mind drifts off.

Mina recognizes that she sees her life as a series of failures one after another. Everything is something she could’ve done better. Nothing is satisfactory, and Mina’s mind is constantly repeating events, reflecting, running through every mistake, analyzing her own words, criticizing. Because once she left the house and her parents weren’t there to criticize her anymore, Mina began to do it herself.

She has to be good—at everything, just has to. Can’t live with herself otherwise.

Sana’s still talking and Mina can’t really make out the words as her eyelids droop, fists loosening their grasp on Sana’s shirt, but she’s content to just listen to the drone of Sana’s voice. She’s speaking in Japanese—probably something about what a wonderful person Mina is, Mina muses as her mind drifts off. Because most others don’t tell her that. About how kind she is. How reliable. Open minded. Honest. Observant. Diligent. Caring. Considerate. No one else tells her that. And if they did, Mina probably wouldn’t believe them.

Mina’s a little stuck in the past, but with Sana here, she just might be able to look to the future.

\---

“When are you going to introduce me to your beloved sister?” Nayeon all but corners Mina in the break room one afternoon, blocking any chance of escape (she’s just leaning against the door). Mina’s eyes are swimming from staring at her computer screen for the last four hours nonstop and is in dire need of some black coffee.

“First of all, I told you she’s not really my sister—”

“Which you just found out a few months ago.”

“—and second—”

“And I had to hear from Jihyo first because you didn’t feel the need to inform me!”

“—Did I ever say I was going to introduce you?” Mina sets the jug back on the machine and turns around, a steaming mug in her left hand.

“Duh. It’s one of my rights as your best friend.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t remember saying that either.”

Nayeon pouts dramatically and it finally elicits a giggle from the younger girl. Mina’s still embarrassed over the events of the other day, but she’s sure Sana won’t tease too much. It’s not the first time she’s clung to the older girl crying and if she’s being honest, Mina hopes it won’t be the last.

“Okay fine~ Next time alright?”

\--- 

 Mina closes one eye to peer into the bottle. It feels light—empty. Only eight pills left.

She’s running out.

\---

“They want to see you.”

Sana instantly freezes like Mina expects, but the dread in her chest is worse than anticipated when she sees her smile drop heavier than a cement block.

“Who’s they?” She tries to fake a lighter tone, but her voice is tight. Sana knows, Mina’s sure she already knows.

“O-Our parents…”

“...You told them?”

Mina opens her mouth but her thoughts aren’t really in order, even though she’d planned beforehand exactly what to say—rehearsed it even, but nothing comes out. “Sana—”

“You told them.” Sana’s upon her in an instant. Fists clenched and eyes hard.

“I—It just came up, and I didn’t say anything about us, just that we’re working on the project together—and—”

“Mina. I can’t believe you told them!”

Mina winces at the sudden rise in volume, looking anywhere but Sana’s face. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I told you they’re not my parents. I didn’t want them to know anything about me!” Sana insists, exasperated that Mina’s ousted her again. She doesn’t like it— _hates_ it, the way Sana looks so disappointed in her. That look she spends her entire life trying to avoid, coming from the one real person she never wants to see it from. “You always do this, you report back to them like it’s your job.”

“I’m sorry…”

Mina’s been trying to. She’s been trying so _hard_ to be independent. To break away from the mold that her parents had forced her into. But all her struggling makes something crack—a sickening snap that threatens to split Mina in half and maybe it would’ve been easier if she never struggled in the first place—just accepted whatever happens. It really was just a slip up over the phone, she was absentmindedly proofreading an email while her mother called…

Sana sighs. Runs a hand through her hair and musses it up. “Just—Just go home Mina.”

Mina’s head snaps up. “...What?” Her voice comes out small, vulnerable, a croak.

“Go home, Mina.” Sana repeats, staring directly into her eyes.

.

.

.

Mina does as she’s told.

Returns to a place she’s certain isn’t called ‘home’.

 


	4. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this chapter so much I'm just going to toss it at you now. And uh, trigger warning for mentions of abuse.

 

One week. No contact.

\---

Two weeks. Mina considers calling from her end—no, an email would be better. More appropriate.

\---

Three weeks. Perhaps she should set up an appointment; her prescription is running dangerously low and she’s been far too anxious as of late. She almost had a panic attack when she deleted the draft to a report during work when logically, it’d only take a few minutes to retype.

She makes the appointment. Then cancels it last minute.

\---

One month.

A text.

 **Sana-unnie:** can you come over

Mina’s rushes outside and hails a cab to the airport in an instant.

\---

“Hey Mina…”

Mina can tell by the shift in Sana’s body language that she’s about to say something serious, which isn’t all that often. They haven’t barely made it inside yet, still standing in the foyer, Mina’s shoes still on her feet and she’s just closed the door behind her.

“Yes?” Sana is so small, with her round glasses and oversized hoodie and knee socks.

“I... I think I can meet them.” The silence before she spoke was deafening, but the silence after is far more numbing.

“A-Are you sure?” Mina didn’t expect this to come up again. And to be honest, for her own sake, she’d hoped it wouldn’t.

Sana lets out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

“It’ll be ok.” Mina tries to convince her, steps a little closer. Sana isn’t really listening, but Mina says it anyway. _We’ll be ok._

\---

A phone call and a heavy sigh later, Mina tells Sana across the kitchen counter, “They want to talk over lunch.”

Between choosing to meet up in Japan or Korea, their parents had chosen Japan (expectedly they’re not going to travel to Korea just for Sana), and offered to treat them to lunch in some restaurant downtown.

Sana snorts, “Of course. He did say a dyke wasn’t allowed in his house.”

Mina chooses not to comment, flinches a little as she reaches for her two glasses from the cupboard where she knows they’re stored (she’s always the one that does the dishes because Sana’s prone to breaking them), pouring some chilled wine for both of them. Slowly, the tension seeps from her back. “Oh and Nayeon wants to meet you too.”

“Hmm? Is that why we broke out the alcohol?”

“I thought it might make the news easier to take.” Mina says in the most innocent way possible, peers at Sana and slides a glass across the counter. A smile tugs at the corner of Sana’s lips as she takes it.

“Is meeting Nayeon stressful enough to need alcohol?”

Mina shrugs. “I think her existence is stressful to be honest.”

Finally Sana giggles and Mina smiles into her glass. She almost wants to thank Nayeon for being her friend if only to break the awkward atmosphere when brought up in conversation. “I can’t decide which is more terrifying, meeting the parents or meeting Nayeon.”

Mina rolls her eyes. “She’s not actually the devil you know.”

“Hmm I don’t know~ The devil and the black swan? Seems pretty fitting to me.”

This earns a groan from the black-haired girl. “It was _one_ play.”

Sana pays her no heed, opting to glide around the counter corner and lean back against it at Mina’s side, both of them staring at the face-level microwave built into the wall like it holds all the answers. They make eye contact through the reflection in the black glass. “What if she doesn’t like me? Nayeon.”

“She’ll like you if you return as much sass as she gives.”

“That sounds like a surefire way to get her not to like me, but sure I’ll give it a shot!” And she raises the glass in a toast, then knocks the liquid back in the way you’re not supposed to enjoy wine.

Mina just shakes her head.

(True to her word, Sana does sass Nayeon back—they hit it off right away. At least one thing in Mina’s life seems to be going right. The amount of sheer relief even tops the time she finally managed to rent her own condo a few years ago with her own money.

“I like her,” Nayeon laughs and says a beat after Sana threatens to dig up and expose all of Nayeon’s nudes if she ever hurts Mina. “I was going to tell her the same thing.”)

\---

Their mother is a petite woman with shorter hair. It frames her face and makes her chin look sharp like Mina’s. She always looks very put together and in control, based on her style of dress and the way she carries herself, albeit a bit stiff.

Their father is of average height, a somewhat burly man with a thick chest contrasting to that of common Japanese body types. He wears black-framed glasses and has a trimmed mustache. He wouldn’t be out of place shouting at staff as the manager of an office, or watching sports in a bar while nursing a beer.

Sitting face to face once again, Mina begins to note the features they share and the ones they don’t. Mina has Mom’s eyes, and Sana has her dad’s nose. Mina looks nothing like their dad. Sana looks nothing like their mom. Sana was right.

They’re nothing alike after all.

Their parents were already there when they arrived and Mina’s suddenly glad they’re in public. At least in public they’ll be a little more subdued, she hopes as she thinks back to all the arguments Sana used to get into with their father. They’d always fight over the dumbest things, escalating them into big enough deals that something in the house would end up broken, and Sana would have to stay over at a friend’s for the night or maybe the entire week. Mina would bring an overnight bag to said friend’s house a few hours later, after their father retires to his room. And every time Sana would look so tired and aged when she handed it over even if she smiled.

How did Mina forget these events existed in her childhood, she wonders.

Getting the awkward bowing out of the way, their mother gestures for them to sit. Sana lets Mina slide in the booth first. Tries to make it all chivalrous and despite herself, Mina has to stifle a giggle. She pinches Sana’s thigh under the table in retaliation later.

It’s a Chinese place, a relatively popular chain whose name Mina would butcher if she pronounced. It’s not high class, more of a casual dining setting but chic enough that their parents allow them to eat there. Or maybe they just felt awkward going to a place they used to frequent.

They each browse through the menu, Sana leaning over and looking over at Mina’s so they can decide together what to get. “I heard the dumplings are good.” Sana points; their shoulders brush briefly. Mina’s eyes flick up. Right there, on the tip of her mother’s tongue, the same droning lecture Mina gets every time she wants to order something even remotely unhealthy.

A part of her wants to be rebellious, show she’s not the same meek little girl, but now’s not a good time. She doesn’t order the dumplings when the waiter comes, still trying to decide what would be acceptable when Sana orders a large platter to share with Mina.

 _So much for that._ Then Mina orders the spring rolls, too. Might as well.

Sana enjoys the spring rolls tremendously, or as much as she can with the awkward atmosphere so it’s really very subdued. Mina only catches glimpses (easy to miss if you aren’t looking) of a happiness in Sana’s eye as she mentions maybe asking the waitress about what they put in the dip sauce. Mina’s secretly praises herself for ordering the spring rolls.

They make small talk about their daily lives throughout the entire lunch—topics they’re all accustomed to as businessmen and women with tried and true answers. It’s almost boring enough to make Mina drift. “How’s work?” “The commute must be tedious.” “Is the rent very high in Seoul?”

Blinking away the haze as Sana shoots off responses, Mina sneaks a glance at their father (Sana’s father?) and how quiet he’s being. As far as she’s seen, he hasn’t even looked at Sana since they came in. Not once. It’s ridiculous.

A bitter taste slowly rises in Mina’s throat and she’s contemplating whether to touch on the issue of their mute father when she’s cut off by their mother saying something about how she’s amazed Sana ended so high up in a large firm, and that Mina will be there soon as well.

“Of course Mina will do better. This is only the beginning, I’m sure once she gathers some experience she’ll resign and look for a better job.”

They have high expectations for her, think that she’ll run her own company someday, maybe even run the entirety of Osaka and it almost sounds like Mina’s the Yakuza boss from the ambitious way her mother speaks, with eyes glinting. Mina only sighs mentally. Even as adults, almost a decade after seeing their first daughter for the last time, their parents still compare them to each other. She’s ready to let it slide by, but by the subtle straightening of Sana’s posture, the slight lift of her chin, she knows Sana won’t. And the drama begins.

“Is that all you care about?”

“I’m sorry?” Their mother frowns, reaching for a napkin to dab at a nonexistent dot of sauce.

“I’m asking,” Sana props her elbows on the table and Mina is suddenly hit with the fact that they are at equal footing now. This isn’t their dining table. They aren’t teenagers anymore, and Sana is perfectly capable of holding her own ground. “Is it not enough that you forced to enter high school two years early, that she has a good career in line, that she’s maybe even happy? Is that not enough for you?”

Mina coughs when something catches in her throat and quickly reaches for a glass of water. Should she be proud? Maybe not, by her parent’s standards, but a small corner of her feels elated nonetheless.

“You don’t need to be worrying about Mina when you’re the one who quit student council and received below-par grades.” That little bit of trademark disappointment seeps in. Another comparison. Another disappointment. Always bringing up the past again and again to remind them of their failures. Mina wishes they would talk about something new sometimes, but she supposes they don’t have any new memories of Sana to talk about. “Mina always had a higher average than you. A perfect GPA.”

“An 96 is not ‘below par’,” Sana hisses, voice level, trying to settle back in her seat but only on the edge. “And I quit student council because I realized that I’m fine the way I am and that I’m not Mina. You were happy enough that she got the good grades and the honors classes and the awards, weren’t you? Though half of them were just because you donated enough money for them to start building a _brand-new library_.”

“Sana!” Thei—Mina’s mother hisses. Sana visibly recoils in disgust at the mention of her name. She’s about to say something snarky, maybe tell them to call her Minatozaki because that’s the level they’re at now but before it slips out, she’s interrupted.

“You’re jealous.” Their father speaks and it sends the table into complete silence save for the thundering in Mina’s ears. “You always performed worse than your little sister but that is no excuse to be rude and put the blame on us, your _parents_. We never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do and gave you everything you needed—we only wanted the best. We understand you—”

“No you don’t!” Sana splutters, “You’re our _parents_ , like you say, what kind of parent kicks their kid in the gut hard enough to send them to the ER?”

—What? When did this happen? Mina’s eyes fly wide open and she gapes at Sana, then her mother, then father and none of them seem to remember she exists. God—she can’t breathe—why is it so hard to breathe? She should’ve taken some pills beforehand; she knew it would turn out like this.

“Tried to send me to live with some relatives because I’m a ‘bad influence’ for my little sister? Because the one time I mustered enough courage to tell you Mina had a 40 degree fever and should take a day off school? _Broke_ my phone so I wouldn’t be ‘distracted’ studying? I only ever used it to message friends during _your_ designated times—I followed your rules and all you ever did was punish me for it! You don’t _get_ anything, so don’t fucking tell me you ‘understand’ me.”

A gasp. “Sana! You shut your mouth that is not how you speak to your pa—”

“We gave you everything you needed!” Her father cuts Mina’s mother off. “You owe us, but you left and threw that all away. It was a wasted investment I should’ve known.”

Sana snaps her mouth shut. Mina closes her eyes and tries to remember the steps. In. Out. Just breathe. This will pass—it always does.

“Good thing Mina wasn’t. She made up for you where you failed. Mina has always excelled that’s why we sent her ahead. She can’t afford to rest. It’s for her future—what you threw away.” Sana’s father all but spits, jaw clenched with every intention of concluding the conversation with that statement. He very pointedly avoids mentioning the abuse. Seriously, when did that happen? How did Mina miss it? Why didn’t Sana _say_ anything?

Sana leans back in her seat like it suddenly doesn’t bother her. Mina’s never seen that look on her face, not once did Sana back down when arguing with her father before. She looks almost...smug, and Mina gasps. This. This is what she expected, what she was looking for, what she wanted to show Mina.

Mina’s mother is red-faced, lips drawn in a line and absolutely horrified at the outburst—of course she is; they’re getting looks. They really shouldn’t have done this in public—“Be _have_ yourself! This is no way to act—”

“Maybe I would ‘behave’ if you weren’t such a controlling _bitch_.”

Mina winces. It—It was good for Sana, that she left. Mina realizes this now.

“And you.” Sana whirls towards the man, the tension boils again. No matter how hard she tries, there’s just no way she can pretend to get along with him. Not when he doesn’t care about his own family, slept around with coworkers, and his wife wasn’t any better, just turning a blind eye. Sana hated being a part of it, this family of theirs—until she realized she didn’t have to be. “You don’t get to talk about Mina’s future when you never gave a single _shit,”—_ she hisses the word lowly, like a growl—“about mine! And you know what?” She stands. Both of them stare at her like she’s a stranger, like this isn’t someone they know, someone they associate with. And she’s not. “I’m done. You’re done controlling my life.”

Then Sana saunters away from their table, straight out of entrance in a rather controlled, deliberate manner—this is a sight Mina’s familiar with—the image of Sana’s back with her school bag slung on her shoulder, front door already ajar and hurriedly tugging on sneakers all those years ago. Only now it’s a purse and trench coat and she’s a bit taller than she used to be.

Mina had really hoped they could be a family again and Sana never said, but Mina knows that deep somewhere she was hoping too. The way she marked it in her calendar hanging in her kitchen, how her eyes gravitated towards the circle every time she walked by the fridge. The one time Mina caught the ghost of a wistful smile upon her lips.

But they’re not going to make up, it makes Mina want to curl up like a child again, because these people never thought of Sana nor Mina as family in the first place.

After a moment’s pause and a glare directed toward both the parents, Mina scrambles after her only remaining family.

\---

“Sana! _Sana_!” Mina calls after her, struggling to carry her own coat and bag and run at the same time. Her voice is too soft though, and Sana doesn’t hear her. Why did Mina wear heels today? “Sana!” Her windpipes strain. Even the wind is against her. “Sana-neesan!”

Abruptly, Sana halts.

At last Mina catches up and stands right beside her, bumping shoulders in her haste. “Let’s—” She sucks in much needed breath, “—Let’s just go back to my place, okay?”

Sana seems to hesitate for a moment, but then gives in and nods. Mina lets a small smile grace her lips, hoping it’ll soothe Sana the way it always used to do for Mina, and grabs her hand. If Sana’s surprised at Mina’s sudden display of skinship, she doesn’t show it. Just grips her fingers tighter.

They hold hands the whole way.

\---

The door shuts with a click.

“He didn’t want me.” The words blurt out like the collapse of a cracked dam. In the privacy of Mina’s flat, Sana finally lets herself go. “Mom never wanted me in the first place. Did you ever see the look in her eyes when she saw me?” Sana whips around to gaze at Mina, eyes watering, her shoes kicked off in the corner as Mina places her own carefully on the shoe rack. “It wasn’t disgust but it hurt pretty damn much—no her eyes were cold. Like she was looking at a stranger, a fucking outsider! Surprised that I was there. God I know I’m not her kid but did she have to act like I’m not relevant to her at all?”

Mina stays quiet, walks to her bedroom because _god_ she needs to lie down—and Sana follows.

“She could’ve pretended a little better. Could’ve treated me like a visiting cousin or something, but no, I was the unwanted stranger in the family. The mistake child except I’m not her damn child!” Sana really shouldn’t have agreed to meet their—Mina’s parents. Mina sinks against the headboard and Sana backs up to the opposite wall, slides down it until she’s sitting on Mina’s floor. Buries her fingers in her hair. “Anytime she did acknowledge me it was always because I did something to ‘disgrace the family name’ or some fucking shit.” She lets out a heaving sigh and it seems Sana’s finally gotten it all out, Mina’s glad, she’s going to black out any minute, with the way the black spots keep dancing.

After an eternity passes of quiet nothing save for the tick of Mina’s watch, a small whisper reaches Mina’s ears.

“I was going to come back for you, you know.”

“...What?”

“I did come back. I was going to get my life together—” Sana looks up. Her eyes are bright. Gaze distant. “—Find a good career—a stable one that could support us. And when I landed a decent job I immediately bought a train ticket back to town, but you weren’t there.” A stroke of disappointment rips through Mina’s sternum. She had missed it. If only she’d fought to stay a little harder...But she’s also not the one that dropped off the face of the earth in a matter of hours. “All of you were gone.”

Mina had skipped school that day.

“I tried so hard to find out where you went but the neighbors didn’t even know.”

For the first time in her _life_ to sprint around town, fighting the crippling ache in her stomach she always gets when she panics, to ask if everyone—anyone had seen a sandy, light brown haired girl likely wearing the same uniform around.

“They didn’t even recognize me.”

But no one had. She wasn’t even at Momo’s house—Sana’s always at Momo’s house. And so Mina hid in the park that held the most memories for them, in the little dome painted like a penguin that had holes where the eyes were, hugging her knees, shivering, and she cried.

Sana’s gaze shifts downward. “I was going to take you away...far away from our so-called family.”

Cried like she’d never cried before.

But Sana doesn’t know that.

A moment’s pause passes, then an abrupt bark of laughter escapes Mina’s throat. Then another one, and another until she’s hunched over clutching her stomach laughing and she’s not sure she can keep the tears in her eyes from spilling in this position, so she straightens back up. The bubble pops, and everything comes crashing down.

“Take me away?” Mina stands abruptly. Her head swims, the familiar sting in her throat is ever-present. “This isn’t some fairy tale and you are not some prince. You think you could’ve just ‘saved me’ from whatever distress you thought I was in? This is reality, Sana. There are laws and expectations and you can’t just throw them away though you sure did try.” She briefly waits for a reaction but Sana’s mouth only hangs open, eyes wide in delayed shock and Mina can’t wait any longer. “You want to know why we weren’t there? We moved because the pressure from the other families was too much. You know, the families with _all their members_. You left because it was convenient! You don’t think these kinds of things through, Sana!”

“I-I’m sorry, I meant to come back, I—”

“You wouldn’t have to come back if you never left in the first place.”

She has the upper hand now. Sana is on her knees. A rush of satisfaction runs through Mina in the sickest way, watching Sana stutter.

“But you never even came after me!”

Mina blinks then trips over her own words in anger. “Wh-Didn’t come after you?! I looked for you! I looked for you so hard but _you_ left _me_! You’re the one that didn’t pick up a year’s worth of phone calls—even though I _knew_ you had your phone on you? _You_ hid from me that day! If you didn’t want me then—” She chokes, “—then you should’ve just picked up your damn phone and told me!”

“M-Mina I—"

“And you’re saying _I_ _didn’t_ _try_? Do you know how much it hurt?! It felt like you threw me away like I was nothing like I had no worth you know I’m insecure about these things—I went through years of self-doubt and anxiety, woke up choking in the middle of the night from panic attacks and I still haven’t gotten over it!” She rushes to her desk drawer where she keeps her medications. Grabbing the bottle, she tosses right at Sana’s face though her aim is a little off and it bounces off her shoulder with a clattering of pills—only two left, Mina knows—against plastic. Sana flinches upon contact. “Mother thought I was going crazy but she told me to get over it. She wasn’t going to send her ‘only child’ to therapy. What would our relatives say? Oh one of their children ran away and the other one needs to be sent to a fucking mental institution!”

Sana winces again. “I—”

“And only child! She said—How could she _say_ that? She just erased your existence. It didn’t go well with our family reputation so you were wiped off the slate!” Her breathing speeds up—erratic, and the black dots dance harder.

“Mina? Are you okay—”

So maybe Mina did notice all the times her awards were displayed around house while Sana’s were left in the attic, all the times her parents would brag about her and only her as if Sana didn’t exist even before they parted. Maybe she did notice the increasing amount of time Sana would spend anywhere but at their house. Maybe she did tell herself not to pay any attention to it and maybe she hates herself for it. How Sana gave her all the attention in the world and Mina shoved her away. Just because she couldn’t stand to lose, couldn’t stand up for herself.

But Sana doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what it was like after she left. If Mina’s being honest, she would’ve given _anything,_ anything to leave with Sana. Yet she was cast aside. Never even asked.

“You said you wanted to take me away from my ‘family’? Well congratulations, you did.” Mina scoffs, breathless. “But I guess we weren’t ever family anyways, were we, if you could just leave like that.” Most of her vision’s black now. “I-I bet you thought it was the best solution or something, didn’t you? You think you know what’s best for me—Just like them. How are you any better?”

Eyes wide, Sana’s jaw goes slack. From her stories, Sana’s life got way better after she tossed her old life away. Maybe it was tough at first, but she got memories filled with better, loving parents, a new sister in the form of Momo, a new future she could walk as she chose.

The complete opposite of Mina.

“You left me all alone, with _them._ ”

Them. The ones who forced Mina to wear a necklace that had a GPS tracker in it so they could never lose her. So she could never escape. Who dragged her to dinners with families who coincidentally had ‘nice sons’ that Mina might ‘get along with’. She never came out to them, how could she? Not to them. The ones who indirectly made her quit ballet by shoving cram school down her throat and because somewhere along the way it went from something to brag about to an entirely useless skill. Who started periodically taking her to the doctor to see if she was still a virgin, because if she wasn’t then she’d automatically be labeled a whore. The ones who told Mina to pretend she never had a sister in the first place. _Them._

Don’t be a disappointment. Don’t be a slut. Don’t be like _her_ , Mina. You have to be **good**.

Mina shakes her head. This is what she needed. She never needed Sana to apologize. She just needed to admit that she was lying to herself.

Sana watches Mina pant, clutching her chest and Sana knows Mina won’t let her help, won’t even meet her eyes. Just angrily shoves the loose bangs out of her face. It’s the first time Sana ever found her truly scary.

Mina. The crybaby that loves dogs more than people. The elegant ballerina that smiles with her gums when she smiles for real. The penguin that walks with a waddle and loves Americanos and avocados though preferably not at the same time. Her Mina. Her little sister, Mina.

She was doing the same thing. She thought she was protecting Mina all this time, but she wasn’t. She was just controlling her, making her go along with Sana’s whims.

A whimper slips out and Sana has to blink hard to fight back the tears—a few escape anyway. “Mitan we—” She chokes up but pushes through the discomfort of her throat. A terrible twisting of her gut makes her think her liver and kidney might’ve switched places, and if she’s not careful they might just jump out. “We’ve always been sisters—We still are. We’re _family_.” She hopes the insistence in her voice is convincing. Because she needs it herself. “We can’t go back to the ways things used to be, but I can be there if you want me to. I—I can be in your life again if you’ll let me.”

What if—what if Mina says no?

“I’m so sorry Mina, you do-you don’t know how much I care about you.” And the tears fall freely. She’ll beg if she has to. Mina wasn’t the only one lying to herself.

Mina shakes her head, again. The rage gone now. Vanishes. Leaves her with an emptiness she’s all too familiar with. She doesn’t push the bangs away this time, but stares at Sana through the single strand over her right eye as her pants finally begin to even out.

“...And what if I don’t want to be sisters?” Her voice comes out surprisingly steady, the darkness retreating inch by inch.

Sana’s face contorts into an ugly, restrained grimace, about to break down. “Th-Then we can not be.”

“Good.”

And she's still fighting the enlarging crack in her heart when Mina leans in suddenly, now on her knees as well. Their fronts press together and Sana’s too dumbfounded to move away. The action is abrupt, swift, and it’s honestly how quickly Mina should’ve reacted eight years ago.

“Because I don’t want to be.”

She kisses her. Mina kisses Sana.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last and we finally get to the happy ending Misana deserves! T^T
> 
> Btw, anyone up for a Nahyo sidestory/sequel to this?


	5. Forward

 

Sana was three years old when she got a new mother and baby sister. Her first mother didn’t want her; she’d heard her parents’ conversation through the wall late at night when she was supposed to be asleep. Her mother hadn’t fought for custody, and her father begrudgingly took it.

She was eight the first time her father hit her, struck her across the left cheek that left a purpling bruise she had to lie about to little six-year-old Mina, who held a cold compress to it for an hour, telling her to ‘be more careful going down the stairs’. If only she knew. But she didn’t need to know. If only one of them needed to be the problem child, the unwanted, then it’d be Sana. Sana wouldn’t let Mina go through that—the pain of losing someone you thought cared about you.

Sana was thirteen when she first started realizing she didn’t like boys. The boys in their middle school liked to bully Mina, because she was quiet and preferred to play games like a boy instead of going shopping or gossip like the other girls. It wasn’t long after, that Sana realized though she didn’t like boys, she didn’t like the girls either—just Mina. It had always been Mina.

Sana was sixteen when she got kicked out of the house. The result of a screaming match with her father and not-so-new-anymore mother that got out of hand, Sana’s emotions got the best of her, bubbling, erupting, that she revealed her biggest secret—her biggest sin, and then she was out. She felt numb, walking down the familiar streets. Then she felt free, as she looked up at the sky. Then she felt sad, as the tears fell. Who was going to take care of her baby sister now?

So much sadness, weighing down her shoulders and stuffing her ribcage to the seams, draped over her like a cape, a shadow, as she dragged her feet one step at a time.

She ended up on the roof.

The roof of their academy was always empty—rightfully so. Only delinquents hung out on rooftops, but Sana always did have a bit of a rebellious streak. She found herself there without thinking, wandered there with no place to go, subconsciously looking for a place to hide. At least until the day ended, until she could figure out a plan that didn’t end with her dead in a ditch on the side of the road.

Mina didn’t know about the roof. The roof was perfect.

A vibration up her forearm startled Sana and she lifted her face to check from where she was hunched over and hugging herself against the concrete of the stairwell. The breeze was nice today, mocking.

Sana gasped when she saw the name on her screen.

**Mitan.**

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and she whimpered in an effort to distract herself from sobbing. She tucked her face back into her knees. Hugged herself tighter. If she hugged herself tight enough, maybe it’d feel like someone else embracing her. If not, then maybe the pressure could make her shrink until she disappeared from existence.

 _Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up. You’re not good for her. Don’t pick_ up _._

Stuffing her earbuds in, Sana shut out the world.

 **_How can we make amends when we said all we said?_ **  
**_I call and you don't pick up_**  
**_How can I say instead that I hope it's for the best?_ **  
**_I won't, and I won't give up_ **

She let it vibrate, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to face her, to let her go—not yet.

 **_How can we push aside all the bad and make it right_ **  
**_Now you got me all choked up_ **  
**_I'm sorry, brother_ **  
**_I know I let you down_ **  
**_I'm sorry for how I up and left this town_ **

Her phone and headphones were all she brought with her, gripped in her hand on the way out. She hadn’t even grabbed her bag yet. Going back wasn’t an option.

 **_How can we both pick sides when we know nothing's right?_ **  
**_Open up the door that's shut_**  
**_How can I have my pride and drink away my soul tonight?_ **  
**_Sorrow's filling up my cup_ **

Why was she like this? Self-destructive. Most people exploded and hurt others, Sana exploded and rained the ashes on herself, losing her fire as it seeped away like molten lava. The barrier between them was taller than ever, the trench wider than the ocean, and it was all Sana’s fault.

**_Well some birds aren't meant to be caged  
And I just can't see the light of day_ **

Someday, she promised. Someday she would come back to see her. She wasn’t worth her now.

 **_Please forgive me I can't remember_ **  
**_Please forgive me, no one is calling_**  
**_Please forgive me, I can't believe it_ **

The vibrations stopped.

She should get out of here soon—before classes end. Running into Mina will become inevitably painful should she still be here when she gets out of class. She was probably in first period by now, confused, but safe. She wouldn’t be looking for Sana.

 **_Gonna pick myself up, so I don't let this ever grow_ **  
**_Even if I mess up, I won't let this ever go_ **  
**_It's hard to stay_ **  
**_It's hard to stay_ **  
**_'Cause some birds aren't meant to be caged_ **

For now, Sana needed to move forward. Needed to free herself. Hopefully Mina would listen when the day comes, Sana knew forgiveness would be too much to ask, but maybe she’ll listen.

 **_How can I set us free?_ **  
**_I'm what you taught me to be_ **  
**_Shouldn't that be enough?_ **  
**_It's time that we make amends_ **  
**_Let's forget the things we said_ **  
**_You know we were all just stuck_ **

**_I'm sorry, mother_ **  
**_I know I let you down_ **  
**_I'm sorry, father_ **  
**_I didn't stick around_ **

Sana stands, yanks out her earbuds and takes her first step.

_**Please just listen 'cause I don't ask for much  
I am my own man, I make my own luck** _

\---

“When?”

“Hm?”

“When did you...stop seeing me as a sister?”

They’re lying on Mina’s bed hours later, bodies warm, sheets cold. Sana has her arms thrown around Mina’s waist because she’s always been the cuddlier one of the two—the one more in need of physical assurance. She snuggles closer and Mina lets her.

“I don’t know...when you left? Though now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I ever liked you in the way a sister is supposed to.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm yeah.”

Sana hums and rubs her palm up and down Mina’s arm like an unspoken thank you. Sana had wanted to talk, ask about all those years she was gone, but Mina wasn’t up for it.

(“It’s in the past.” She says. “I’d like to leave it there.”

Sana nods, understanding.

“What about you?” But Sana isn’t ready either, and she shakes her head.

“Not now.”)

“When did _you_ stop?” The younger’s voice comes out a murmur, riddled with a sleep that she refuses to give in to.

“Hmm~” Mimicking Mina, Sana then adds. “Well it’s actually kind of obvious for me—as soon as I found out we weren’t actually related.”

“And that was…?”

“When I was sixteen.”

Mina jolts awake. “But that’s when—”

“When I got kicked out? Yeah.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Well it _kind_ of was in a way but I don’t blame you for it~” Sana giggles. Like she knows something Mina doesn’t, and Mina swats at her arm.

“Hey! How was it my fault?” Mina pouts and Sana just giggles harder. It brings a genuine smile to Mina’s face, even if she’s tired.

“Oh Mina you don’t think I was kicked out just because I liked girls right? I mean that was like twenty percent of it but I think our parents would’ve let me stay for the ‘family image’ at least. As long as I didn’t go around announcing my sexuality to the world.”

“Then why?”

Suddenly Sana grows shy and buries her nose in Mina’s hair, mumbling. “Told you it’s your fault…”

A few seconds pass of dead silence...then Mina gasps. Sana sighs, pulling away to speak because she wants Mina to hear this part clearly, but can only muster a whisper.

“But if you ask me when…” She gulps, “I started liking you. That was much earlier.”

Mina’s hesitant. Doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and Sana can feel it coming off her in waves as she struggles to find the words. She eventually ends up settling on the simplest one.

“...Yeah?”

Sana has to stifle a snort which prompts a giggle from the younger as well. “Yeah.” Then she suddenly shifts and pulls away just slightly, leaving Mina confused until she sees the darkness in Sana’s features. “Look Mina, I’m—I’m sorry for leaving. I was—really scared—that’s not an excuse but I was scared you’d react like them and probably even worse because how disgusting is it that your own sis—”

“Hey,” Mina cuts her off and tugs Sana back by the hands on her hips, the latter stiff and uncooperative. She tugs again. “Hey. It’s fine—you’re not disgusting I could never think—” Mina cuts herself off. “We agreed to save that talk for later right? Let’s talk later, not now. We can be happy now.”

Sana lets out a heaving breath. “Right, yeah, you’re right.” And she finally relents.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

Mina hums, “Okay. So...do you need an answer?” The mood swings in a positive arc just from the curve of Mina’s lips present in her voice and Sana nods eagerly, just to play along. When she glances out of the corner of her eye, she can see Mina smile reassuringly as if to chase the sadness away. The brunette places the lightest of kisses on her exposed upper arm.

Sana shivers involuntarily. Mina’s lips stretch wider.

“Did that answer your question?” She asks, voice even softer than usual.

Sana shrugs as nonchalantly as she can. It’s hard to do lying down. “Not really.”

Mina hums again, this time with a tone that threatens to erupt in a giggle. Leaning up, she presses a kiss to Sana’s jaw. “And now?”

“Uh—ahem, no.”

Soft chuckles escape Mina’s lips; Sana’s eyes are instinctively drawn to them. Honestly, Sana questions her own sanity at this point but outwardly is oddly calm about the whole thing. Not nearly as calm as Mina though.

“Sana.” A twinge tickles Sana’s rib at the way her name’s spoken, and Mina gazes at her with a myriad of emotions. Playful exasperation. Amusement. A hint of grief. Nostalgia. Fear. Hope. And a little of something Sana doesn’t dare name—not yet.

But no regret.

Lifting her hand from its resting place on Sana’s hip, Mina gestures down at herself and Sana looks, then her cheeks burn and she immediately flicks her gaze back up to Mina’s face. The amusement there grows. Mina’s bare. And so is Sana. Sana’s oddly more embarrassed over the former.

“Really, you mean after all this, you still want me to say it?”

“Maybe.” Sana mumbles. But she doesn’t give Mina the chance to—though Mina’s more likely to reply with some snide remark than what Sana wants to hear, but that’s okay. They have time. They can sort things out along the way, and save it for later.

Sana dives in to kiss Mina, bodies pressing together in all the right places, and it’s soft and kind and loving and Sana could cry. Mina actually does, silent tears the next morning (it’s technically morning already but) when they wake up late with bags under their eyes, tangled in each other’s limbs both sporting bedheads. Sana teases her (both for crying and for her hair) until Mina points out Sana’s apparently not-so-waterproof mascara and the latter rushes to the bathroom, claiming to ‘clean off her makeup’ when Mina knows she’s really either dancing in joy or crying for the same reason—maybe a little bit of both.

And Mina’s ready to join her. Spotting the fallen bottle on the ground beside the bed, she tosses the medication in the trash without a backward glance.

 

 

 

 

Extra

“No more calling me ‘nee-san’ okay?” Not that Mina has been calling her that of late, but she did that one time she wanted to get Sana’s attention. And it had worked, for better or worse, and now Sana knows it’s for the better. Doesn’t mean she likes it though.

“No?”

“Nope,” Sana pouts, “I don’t like it.”

“Not even ‘Onee-chan~’?”

“Nope.”

“Ehhhh~”

“What are you ‘ehhhh’-ing me for? There are plenty of other pet names you can call me, darling~”

Mina snorts, Sana bumps her shoulder. “Whatever you say, honey~”

“That’s better~”

The younger girl goes back to watching the tv for a bit, biding her time until Sana’s settled again to ask, “So you don’t want me to call you ‘Unnie’?” Mina muses with a lilt, knowing that Sana will catch on. And she does. The older girl freezes next to her and Mina can feel it where their sides are cuddled up together on the couch.

“...I..never said that.”

Mina smirks, then turns and pulls Sana down by the collar of her dress shirt she hasn’t bothered to change since they got home (just half unbuttoned). She kisses her languidly, as Sana sighs into her lips. As touchy-feely as Sana is, Mina gets feisty at the most random times and it’s taken a couple months, but Sana’s finally started getting used to it. The older girl practically melts against her, pliant and just a little needy and Mina tries not to smile because it would break their lip lock. A few seconds later when they do part, foreheads touching and exhales mixing in the air between them, Mina states, a little breathless, “Okay, because I know you like it when I do.”

“Hey!” Sana shoves her over, indignantly whining, “It’s not like you don’t have the same kink! Or the opposite kink! Or—whatever!”

Mina just laughs, gums and all, and allows Sana to pull her back up by the hand. Giggles when Sana steals another playful peck from her lips.

(Okay, maybe she’s not wrong there.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God how do you write in past tense again? Anyways this story is finally finished, and I hope you all enjoyed it~ Sorry I wasn't able to reply to comments this time but every single one of them made my day! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I'm on twitter [@keiyuuart](https://twitter.com/keiyuuart) if you wanna chat, or if you want to see my fanarts ;P


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